


Shards

by Mikasa361



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Have some of my heart poured out on a screen, M/M, Mika was angsty, Please Don't Hate Me, Please Don't Kill Me, Yuri done fucked up, god dammit why do I get so dramatic, mentions of mental abuse and manipulation, not sorry, shut up Mika
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 15:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikasa361/pseuds/Mikasa361
Summary: A one-shot that is the result of my very, very angsty mood.Yuri messed up one too many times, and how he's lying in the shards of his own broken heart...Like YoI? Wanna give me ideas about this fic, or for others?Check out my Discord server!Don't worry, I don't bite. <3Oh hey, I have a server for writing and stuff.Check it out right here!Come for writing tips- or bring some of your own! Either way, come visit that little snake with the top hat!





	Shards

**Author's Note:**

> _A/N: I’m in quite the angsty mood, so allow me to crush some souls while I’m relieving my stress. Don’t hate me, please._

_ Look what I did this time. Look at this mess.  _ I look over at the suitcase on our bed- Oh oops, I mean  _ my bed _ . Look at the shit I’ve done now- I ran my mouth one too many times. It used to be such an easy fix- a quick fuck or two and everything was all hunky-dory. We were happy as hell, like most couples, even in a very unconventional way. We used to be so close- we told each other everything, even before we fell in love. So many people called us “goals” and “adorable” and “HOLY HELL JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY.”

 

...What a fucking joke it all was. 

 

Little did they know what was resting under the surface. Between all the kisses and the love and the  _ lies _ was the never ending cycle of eat-fight-fuck-fight-sleep-fight repeat. It was usually my fault. Me and my big mouth were the things that did me in. It was that last    
“Fuck off” that sent my only love out the door with my heart. And now he’s back, but only to pack his bags and move away, to where he won’t tell me. He’s probably afraid I’ll follow him and beg for him back. And God damn, how badly I want to! How badly I want to take it all back. All of my words, my shitty remarks, my petty jabs, all of the empty promises I made to change. I manipulated him is what I did. I fucked with his head to the point of sending him away. I never knew until the day he decided to leave. 

Three days. He was gone for three days before he stepped foot in the house. I looked through myself- did Google searches, did EVERYTHING to see where we went wrong. It was me, only  _ me _ . He was golden. Damn do I wish I could take it back. It was abuse, is what it was. He doesn’t know I know it now, but if I told him I know, would it bring him back to me? No. I dug my own grave, now I have to lie in it. Who knows what could happen in the future? I gotta see a therapist. This is too much, much too much for me to bear. I grab the cat toy on the desk and squeeze it hard in my left hand. It hurts, but it distracts me from the hurt I’m feeling right now. Good. 

For a second, I try to imagine how much better life will be with us apart. He’ll find someone better than me, he’ll be so much happier. He’ll get married, get a house, a cat, and maybe even have some children. What’ll I do? Well, I’ll focus on my career since that’s the only thing I haven’t fucked up yet. I’ll see a therapist, try my hardest to resolve my issues, clear my name in the romance world- hell. I’ll find someone I love, too- settle down with him and my ten cats. I’ll keep my medals on display for me to look at to remember my success, even when I’ve retired. And hell, who knows, I can maybe adopt a kid if I decide I don’t hate kids then.

Life would be so much simpler, really. There would be less fighting and stress and crying and stress and screaming and stress and  _ stress and stress and  _ **_STRESS---_ ** Yes. I’ll be happier in the future. Nothing I say will fuck my love life ten million times over, because I won’t get pissed so easily. And if I do, I’ll know how to handle it! What a thought! I’ll actually have high hopes about my future as a human being on this godforsaken planet.

...Then he walks in  _ my _ room. He places more of his things in his final suitcase. This is it- this one suitcase and he’s out of my life forever. The soreness settles back in, moving aside any optimistic thoughts I might have had. Seeing him makes it much worse, so I turn away. A feeling of nausea makes its way into the pit of my stomach, making friends with my feelings of guilt and regret and sorrow. Fuck my life, the world, the universe, and anything beyond that. I hear him zip the bag up, without a word. There are no words from either of us. I can’t utter out the words I’ve wanted to say for days- I know he’ll never feel them the way I do. He’ll never know thanks to all of my empty apologies in the past.

I turn around when I notice an empty silence. There he is, looking at me one last time. I try and bring all of my feelings up in the gaze I return, hoping he’ll know that this is as painful for me as it is for him. I hope he feels that way too. Part of me hopes he feels sorry for not suggesting I get help sooner- but wasn’t that ball in my court from the start? Finally, he takes his bag and walks out of the door. I find myself glued to the floor, unable to have the decency to show him out. This is me now, a puddle of emotions on the ground. I feel the tears come as I hear the front door shut and the revving of the motorbike’s engine. He’s  _ gone _ . He’s gone and it’s  _ all my fault _ . 

My cat is meowing at the front door, pawing at it and waiting for him to come back. He’ll hate me when he realizes that he is never, ever coming back. Grandpa will be crushed. So will his family. All of those happy days, the gifts the holidays-  **gone** . I finally let my sobs rush out of me, shaking my body to its very core as I at last unfasten our first printed photo together from my chest. My tears drip onto it, pooling on the glass like the shards of my heart around me. 

_ Fuck, Otabek, I’m so, so sorry I hurt you.  _


End file.
